


reaching for the sun

by AlexiaBlackbriar13



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Meeting After Therapy, Alternate Universe - No Island, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, CEO Felicity Smoak, Car Accidents, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ex-Special Forces Oliver Queen, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Felicity Smoak Has PTSD, Felicity has a service dog, Fluff, Friendship, Happy Cliffhanger Ending, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Oliver Queen Has PTSD, Oliver has a service dog, Panic Attacks, Past Torture, Personal Trainer Oliver Queen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Receptionist Lyla Michaels, Romantic Friendship, Service Dogs, Slow Burn, Smoak Technologies, Strangers to Lovers, Therapist John Diggle, Therapy, Walks In The Park, William is a genius kid, cliffhanger ending, past accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 03:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13561953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13
Summary: He’s an ex-special forces personal trainer. She’s the CEO of Smoak Technologies.Oliver and Felicity could not live more different lives except for two particularly significant similarities.They both have service dogs and they have the same therapist.(AKA the "we both go to the same therapist and have service dogs and i saw you having a panic attack in the corner so i decided to get you a donut" olicity au that nobody asked for.)





	reaching for the sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anythingbutplatonic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/gifts).



> **For @lorna_bee.**
> 
>  
> 
> Happy (early) Birthday, Lorna. This fic is entirely for you :) You're such a wonderful, kind, amazing human being. You've always been there for me to talk to about my frustrations, doubts, fic ideas and of course, about dogs, and you've been so accepting, lovely and considerate, the whole time I've known you. You've encouraged me to be a better version of myself, and helped me though dark times which I didn't think I would come out the other side of whole, but with your support I did. You're such a blessing to humanity and I can't wait to drown you in hugs and cuddles in May xxx Thank you for being you and I hope you enjoy your birthday!
> 
>  **Warnings** : This fic discusses mental health issues such as depression, anxiety and PTSD, and also contains instances of a therapy environment. It also contains scenes involving panic and anxiety attacks.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this new AU! Just a oneshot currently... but for your sake of minds, I will tell you now I am considering a sequel.

* * *

Oliver had been going to his therapist for four months when he finally saw the girl who always stole the early morning appointment. It was a normal Wednesday at quarter to nine am, and he was sitting in the waiting room with his German Shepherd service dog, Leo, lying at his feet. Lyla, the kind-hearted and friendly receptionist, always kept donuts on hand for the early morning appointments, so Oliver was enjoying one and feeding the crumbs to Leo as he waited.

The sound of the door banging open caused Oliver to jump in his seat, hypervigilance acting up as usual. The girl came storming out of Doctor Diggle’s room, tears streaming down her face and sobbing. Leo huffed in surprise as a whining, upset golden retriever fitted with a service vest hurried after her. Heart racing and hands twitching, he watched as the girl and her dog scrambled around the corner into the open recovery room. The recovery room was the room that was always open to clients after their appointments if they needed some quiet time to relax.

He’d never seen the girl before because her appointment usually ended fifteen minutes before his own and she left before Oliver arrived. Today, her appointment must have run on a little though. She was blonde and very pretty, but noticeably thin. Frowning, Oliver glanced over at the now closed door to the therapist’s room. Diggle would need five minutes or so to prepare, and that poor girl looked really upset. He needed to at least make sure she was okay, for his own sake of mind. 

Standing, he snagged another donut and, keeping his tread quiet, headed into the recovery room. Closing the door behind him silently, Oliver carefully approached the girl. She was curled up in the pillow corner, clutching her golden retriever service dog to her chest as she cried. Judging by her wheezing and shaking, she was having a panic attack. All of the oxygen in Oliver’s lungs whooshed out, leaving him breathless. Leo nudged at his legs with a soft concerned sound. Oliver had a lot of experience with panic attacks himself and knew how shitty and exhausting they could be. That only solidified his need to check that the girl was going to be alright.

“Hi,” he said softly, kneeling down in front of her. He halted cautiously and held himself very still when her head snapped up and she stared at him suspiciously with red-rimmed, tear-filled blue eyes. “Um. You don’t know me, but we apparently go to the same therapist and both have service dogs and I… I saw you were upset so thought you might want a donut?”

Sniffling, the girl reached out and took the offered donut hesitantly. Oliver waited patiently as she took a couple of bites from it and then fed the rest of it to her service dog. “Thank you.” Seeing how Oliver was crouching a few feet away, she added in a raspy voice, “You can sit down. And come closer. I’m not gonna bite. Although Ziggy might if it looks like you’re scaring me.”

Glad to see that the girl seemed to be calming down, Oliver shifted so he was only a foot away from her and seated cross-legged on the floor, making sure he had a clear view of the door. Her golden retriever squirmed out of her arms but laid down next to her, sniffing at the German shepherd curiously. After investigating the other service dog for a moment, Leo settled down beside Oliver, resting his head on his master’s knee.

“Your dog’s name is Ziggy?”

“As in Ziggy Stardust,” the girl nodded. “David Bowie’s alter ego.”

“That’s cool,” he smiled at her. “My dog’s name is Leo.”

“You named your dog after a big cat?” the girl puffed, chuckling weakly.

He rolled his eyes as if exasperated, but was secretly relieved that she was speaking. Whenever he had panic attacks he would go completely silent and refuse to talk, shutting himself off. Oliver could already tell this girl had quite a bubbly personality, and was likely to open up to him.

“Yeah, call me uninventive if you want. He’s had a haircut recently, but when his fur is grown out, Leo has this giant mane like a lion.” Leaning forward, he held out his hand. “I’m Oliver.”

She took it and shook it, shuffling away from the corner so she was just leaning against the wall. “Felicity.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Certainly a unique way of us bumping into each other,” Felicity replied.

“What, panic attack in the recovery room?” Oliver smiled.

She groaned, tipping her head into her hands. Ziggy nuzzled at her arm, crooning gently, which prompted Felicity to wrap her arms around the dog and cuddle him to her chest. “Embarrassing.”

“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed. Honestly, it’s fine. I have them all the time and I know how awful they can be, so thought you could use some company, that’s all.”

“Your company is appreciated. You see Dr Diggle as well?”

“Yep. You take the early morning appointment slot just before mine every week.” He rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed.

“I’m guessing you want that slot,” Felicity grinned, straightening her legs out onto the floor. Her shoe brushed Oliver’s leg but he didn’t react, knowing that if he startled, she might start to close up.

“I’m a personal trainer,” he explained. “I normally run a lifting clinic every day from eight til’ half nine, but can’t do that on Wednesdays because my appointment is from nine til’ ten. Bit irritating really.”

She blushed. “Sorry. I should probably stop booking the slot then - I don’t start work until one pm on Wednesdays, I just get up early anyway to take Ziggy on his walk so decided I’d rather get therapy over and done with so I have the rest of the morning free.”

“It’s okay,” Oliver reassured her. “You can keep the slot. If you’re comfortable with this time, you shouldn’t shift your appointment.”

Tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear with a shy smile, Felicity stroked over her dog’s head, fiddling with the buckles on his service vest with her other hand. “So… what’s your poison?” she asked hesitantly.

“Poison?” Oliver repeated, confused.

“You know… why you’re here. You don’t have to answer, it’s just - you know, we go to the same therapist and have appointments after one another, and we both know that Wednesday mornings are reserved for what Dig calls his acute case patients.”

That was true. Diggle didn’t like to label his patients by the severity of their mental issues, but you had to have special permission and have it signed off by the doctor himself to book an appointment on a Wednesday morning. Why Diggle liked to handle the acute cases on a Wednesday morning, in the middle of the week, Oliver had no idea, but it worked with his own schedule, so he wasn’t going to complain.

Felicity pointing at herself drew Oliver back to the present and caught his attention. “I’m anxiety and PTSD. I was caught in a targeted shooting and ended up being paralyzed from the waist down due to three bullet wounds in my abdomen. Got stuck in a wheelchair for six months. Eventually I managed to build a micro-implant that fixed the paralysis, but I’m still traumatized.”

“You fixed your own paralysis?” He blinked, awed. “You must be some sort of genius.”

“I am according to Mensa,” Felicity mumbled, looking embarrassed by his praise. “I actually run my own company, you might have heard of it… Smoak Technologies?”

Smoak Technologies was one of the most profitable Fortune 500 corporations in the US. Oliver hadn’t just heard of it - his phone and laptop ran Felicity’s software. Pointedly, Oliver fished his Smoak Tech smartphone out of his back pocket, raising an eyebrow at her. Felicity instantly blushed, scratching behind Ziggy’s ears with a sheepish smile.

“Well now I feel inadequate,” Oliver said in a joking manner, but he actually meant it. To think that he was in the same room as a certified genius… and he hadn’t even got through one year of college before dropping out. “I’m PTSD and depression. Joined the army at age twenty, got recruited for special forces at twenty-three. Two years ago, I got captured and tortured for three months before I managed to escape. As soon as I got back, I got diagnosed with PTSD and I was medically discharged.”

Felicity stared at him in amazement, beautiful blue eyes flickering with new-found respect and wonder. “And you say _you_ feel inadequate?” she whispered. “Thank you for -”

“Don’t finish that,” Oliver grimaced, wrapping his arms around his torso and averting his gaze from her. Leo whimpered, licking his hands in an attempt to comfort him. “Everybody always thanks me for my service. It’s almost as if they say it out of habit every time they meet a soldier these days. They can’t even begin to comprehend what it was like, don’t even try to understand; they just thank us for our service because it’s expected of them. I appreciate it, but - please, don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“No need to apologize,” he replied. “Just please don’t thank me.”

“Don’t you think you deserve it?” she asked softly. “You’re a hero.”

“If you knew what I did, you wouldn’t think that.” If Felicity knew how many people he’d killed, what techniques he’d used to get information out of enemy soldiers, she probably wouldn’t want to associate with him at all.

“I would,” she said, so sure of herself as she nodded seriously. “No average person would be able to survive three months of torture and still manage to escape after that. You’re definitely a hero.”

“Yeah, not so much anymore,” he responded. He tried to keep the bitterness out of her tone, but judging by Felicity’s frown, Oliver failed. “Now I just run self-defense classes, motivate people to run on treadmills and lift weights, and occasionally hold a yoga session.”

“You kept going though. You didn’t give up on your life, despite the horrors you faced. You remained strong and kept going.”

“So did you,” Oliver said, turning back to her with a gentle smile. He leaned across and, allowed her service dog to check him over suspiciously, and once Ziggy huffed to give him the go-ahead, he placed a hand on Felicity’s knee supportively. “Guess we’re both survivors, huh.”

A quiet knock on the door triggered both of them to jump, both Leo and Ziggy leaping to their paws and stepping in front of their owners protectively. Lyla was standing in the doorway with an apologetic look. Oliver had been too distracted by their conversation to even notice the receptionist approaching. Felicity relaxed as soon as she saw who it was, but it would take Oliver a couple more minutes to calm down - his heart was pounding, blood rushing to his head to make him feel dizzy. For brief moment, he’d flashed back to that cold, dark room where he’d been chained naked to the wall, and nausea washed over him which he desperately tried to ignore.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the receptionist said kindly. “Oliver, Dr Diggle is ready for you.”

He nodded to her, signaling he’d be out in a minute. Glancing back over at Felicity, he said, “It was nice to meet you. And Ziggy.”

“You too,” she smiled. “And Leo.”

“Do you wanna hang out sometime?” Oliver asked. “We could go to the park with our dogs and get coffee or something.”

“That sounds really nice.”

“You said you don’t have work until one?”

Felicity nodded.

“Do you want to hang out after I finish my session?” Oliver offered nervously. “This is just a follow up from last time so it should take half an hour at the most. My first weights class of the day is at noon, so I have a couple of hours. Only if you’re free, of course.”

Her eyes were bright and happy as Felicity replied, “Sure! I’m free. That would be great.”

* * *

Felicity was waiting for Oliver in reception when he emerged from Diggle’s office, mentally exhausted and totally ready to leave and not come back (until his appointment next week). Since there were no other patients currently waiting, Lyla was sitting next to her and they were having a conversation, about Ziggy judging by their focus on the service dog.

Diggle followed Oliver out of the office, his cockapoo service dog Luna plodding along beside him. “And remember to do your homework this week,” he said sternly. Oliver winced, avoiding his gaze. “I’m serious. This is an important exercise for you.” His warm eyes skipped over to his other patient, a strange glint appearing in them as he added, “Maybe you can help Miss Smoak with her homework.”

“Study buddies,” Oliver commented sarcastically. Leo nipped his fingers with a light growl of disapproval. “See you next week, Dig.” He bent down to pat the chocolate brown cockapoo on top of her service vest, allowed to stroke the dog because she’d been helping during their session. “Bye, Luna.”

Taking a step back, Oliver paused until the door to the office had closed; it was only once he was certain that the doctor and the receptionist, who had hurried after Diggle to speak with him quickly about new patients, were out of earshot that he turned to Felicity.

She smiled at him sympathetically. “Rough session?”

“For about ten minutes of it, he was telling me off for not doing my homework,” Oliver told her with a tired sigh. “I felt like I was five years old again.”

“Maybe I can help you with whatever he wants you to do?” Felicity offered. “You can help me.”

“Are patients allowed to help each other with their therapy homework?”

She laughed. “Not sure really, but Dig did actually suggest it, so I suppose it must be okay. Ready to get out of here?”

“God yes.”

It wasn’t that Oliver didn’t like the therapy. The therapy actually helped a lot. He just didn’t like how drained and vulnerable he felt after a session. Diggle always asked him questions and analyzed what he was saying so much that it left Oliver feeling exposed, and he often needed a few hours to build his mental and emotional shields back up again. He hated talking about his time in the Special Forces, but it seemed to be one of Diggle’s favorite topics to talk about. Today, Diggle had him talk about the first time he froze during a mission in the field, and it wasn’t a very pleasant memory, so Oliver wasn’t feeling particularly happy.

Both he and Felicity had walked to the office it seemed, as it turned out they both lived in the Glades, only two blocks away from each other. As it happened, they also walked their service dogs in the same park, usually at the same time in the mornings. How they hadn’t bumped into each other before was a mystery.

They stopped at a coffee shop on their way to the park, Oliver picking up a cappuccino while Felicity opted for a caramel latte. Once they were in the dog park, which was empty, they took Ziggy and Leos’ service vests off and let them off leash. They observed in amusement as the German shepherd began enthusiastically chasing the golden retriever through the bushes and around trees. After a minute or so, they settled down on a nearby bench, the cold wind causing them to huddle together.

Sipping from her take-out cup, Felicity asked curiously, “So, you have anybody waiting for you at home?” Looking at her questioningly, she elaborated, “You know… wife, girlfriend…?”

“No partner of any kind,” he shook his head. “You?”

“Nope, destined to be eternally alone, I think.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“I would give you my dating history to prove my point, but I think you’d be traumatized listening to it.”

“Already traumatized,” he grinned at her.

She shot him an amused glance, flicking him in the arm. 

“If discussion of your love life is off limits, I’ll back off,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, so neither of us have partners. What about parents? Siblings?”

“Just my mom,” Felicity informed him. She was kicking her legs back and forth under the bench, fiddling with the buttons on her coat. Clearly this topic was heightening her anxiety a bit, but she didn’t seem too distressed, so Oliver let her continue. “She lives in Vegas. I don’t really see her that often. Actually, come to think of it… I haven’t seen her since I was discharged from hospital after the shooting. What about you?”

He shrugged. “My mom and little sister. They both live in the city but we haven’t really reconnected since I came back.” Thinking about his mother and Thea caused him to wilt slightly; he always felt guilty about not managing to really communicate with them after his return to civilization, but he knew it would be awkward, especially since he’d left Starling without their knowledge or permission to join the army.

“Fathers not in the picture for both of us, huh,” Felicity mused. “Mine left when I was seven.”

“Have you ever tried finding him?”

“Oh, I did. Just after I finished MIT actually. Turned out he’s on the run from the FBI because he’s a criminal hacktivist and has attempted to destroy the internet numerous times.” She said it all in such a casual, impassive manner that Oliver couldn’t help but feel alarmed. Catching sight of his expression, she elbowed him lightly in the side. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got past it now.”

“My dad died of a heart attack,” he told her. “A month before I left for the army. That was one of the biggest catalysts for me going.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. We knew it was coming - he had coronary artery disease and suffered a heart attack before, but survived it. That paired with his cholesterol meant we sort of knew he was on his way out. And…” he hesitated. This was a massive part of his life that he didn’t talk about to anybody except his therapist, but since they were opening up to each other about their families and Oliver needed to get this off his chest, he decided to be honest. “Um. I. I have a son.”

The shocked expression on her face was enough to make Oliver shrink into himself, wincing. “Oh. I… thought you didn’t have -”

“I don’t have a partner,” he shook his head quickly. “It’s… a long story.”

Felicity cast her gaze over the park. There were no other people present, and their service dogs seemed occupied, still chasing each other and play-fighting over a large stick. “We have time.”

“Okay. Well. Um. I had a fling with this girl when I was eighteen and we were both had part-time jobs running activities at a summer camp. We both got drunk one night and ended up…”

“Having sex,” she supplied, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah. We used protection but, you know, it’s not always one hundred percent effective. A couple months later she contacted me during my first year of college telling me she was pregnant. I was absolutely terrified and excited all at once. Two weeks later, though, she told me she had a miscarriage, and moved back in with her parents. I never heard from her again.”

Gazing at him intently, Felicity prompted gently, “Until?”

“Last year. I was visiting friends in Central City a few months after I got back and ran into her in a coffee shop. She had a little boy with her, and when she saw me looking at her she was terrified. Didn’t take me long to put the pieces together. I confronted her and at first she refused to let me see him.”

“How old is he?”

“Now? Twelve. His name’s William.”

“So she lied to you and said you lost your son, and then hid his existence from you for _twelve years?_ ” Felicity sounded horrified. “What kind of person _does_ that?”

“Somebody who’s worried what kind of influence I’ll have on their son,” he smiled weakly. “I wasn’t a very good person when I was younger. I partied and drank a lot, didn’t study or work hard. That was the excuse she gave. It didn’t work. I have a lawyer friend who decided to help me apply for partial-custody. It took a long time and a lot of fighting; the fact that I was medically discharged from the special forces with mental health issues did not help my case. William ended up helping me out, in the end. He was extremely angry at his mother because she told him his father had died overseas, and he knew that she didn’t tell me about him. Samantha caved and we won. Now William comes up from Central every other week to spend the weekend with me.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“It is, yeah. It’s not nearly as much time as I’d like to spend with him, but it’s working out. He stays with me for longer when he’s on break from school.” Before Oliver could stop himself, he started gushing, “He’s so smart. Unbelievably smart. He did this twelfth-grade level biology project about coral last month and he and his team won the National Mathletics Competition last year.”

Felicity lit up. “He likes science and math?”

“And tech. You and he would get along, I can tell.”

Felicity leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Maybe I could meet him one day.”

“I hope so,” Oliver nodded. “Sometimes he asks me for help with his homework and I have absolutely no clue what to do. I feel like an idiot when my twelve-year-old son is trying to explain coordinate geometry to me. We have a couple things in common, like our love of football and baseball. But his teachers sometimes give him very advanced projects to complete so he struggles and I really wish I could help him.”

“If he ever needs a tutor, you know who to ask,” she patted his arm. “Now, speaking of school - what’s your therapy homework?”

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated. “It’s stupid. I have to write a list of five good things that I do or happen to me that make me happy every day.”

“And that’s hard?” She looked puzzled.

He looked at her. “Felicity, I’m _depressed._ ”

Realisation dawned and she instantly looked guilty for making that comment. “Sorry. Didn’t think about that.”

“I was doing it, but Diggle didn’t like some of the things I was coming up with.”

“Examples?”

He pulled out of phone, unlocking it and opening up Notes so he could read the list he wrote for yesterday. “1. I didn’t feel like killing myself today. 2. I didn’t kill myself today. 3. I didn’t feel bad for not killing myself today. 4. I made myself pasta. 5. I didn’t die from food poisoning because I’m awful at making pasta.”

Surprised that Felicity didn’t outright laugh, he snuck a glance over at her and grinned when he saw that she was snickering under her breath, trying to hide it by covering her mouth with her hand. At least she found it funny. Diggle had not found it very amusing at all. In fact, he’d looked extremely disappointed when Oliver had read it out to him and told him he wasn’t taking this seriously enough.

“I can understand why Dig wasn’t particularly thrilled by your choices,” she said. “So maybe we should work on you creating lists that won’t cause him to have an aneurysm anytime soon.”

“What would you suggest?”

“Let’s think about today so far. What good things have happened to you so far today that have made you happy?”

“I don’t know what qualifies as happy anymore, Felicity.”

“Well, what’s made you smile?”

Oliver stared at her.

Noticing how he was looking at her, Felicity shifted under his scrutiny worriedly. “What? Is there something on my face? In my hair?” She quickly checked herself over, biting her lip.

Inhaling, he began typing on his phone.

_Wednesday. What made me smile (happy?):_

_1\. I met Felicity Smoak today._  
_2\. I met her service dog Ziggy._  
_3\. We went out for coffee and to the park to walk our dogs together._

“That’s three done already,” he murmured, slipping his phone away.

“What did you write?” He squirmed and laughed as Felicity lunged forwards and ended up lying half on his lap, tickling his sides as she attempted to grab his phone out his packet. “Oliver! Let me see! Dude, I just helped you out, the least you could do is let me see what you wrote!”

Seeing as how she wouldn’t let up on tickling him, Oliver jabbed her lightly in the stomach and slid away on the bench. “Not letting you see, sorry. But you _could_ let me help you with your homework.”

Felicity grimaced. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Oh, come on.”

“It’s stupid.”

“That’s what I said about mine,” he reminded her. “I’m sure it’s not.”

“No, it is, trust me.” Sighing, she admitted, “I have to practice grounding techniques for when I start having panic and anxiety attacks.”

Oliver nudged her. “That doesn’t sound stupid.”

“Dig’s concerned that I rely on Ziggy too much to get me through the attacks. He wants me to be able to cope myself if one day I don’t have my service dog with me and have to calm myself down.”

The golden retriever perked up from the other side of the park when overhearing the mention of his name, head whipping around and eyes lasering on on his owner. Leo, who had been dancing around the other dog to try and entice him to play, halted as well. Oliver smiled as he saw his service dog freeze and glancing over at him, tilting his head sideways.

“As weird and unbelievable as it sounds,” Oliver said slowly, “I think I’ve been in your position before.”

Felicity’s brow furrowed. “Really?”

“Yeah. Look, I’ve been back in civilization for around two years now and started therapy with Diggle four months ago. That was around the same time I got Leo. He knew within a couple of therapy sessions that I was relying too much on Leo to prevent my PTSD episodes. I actually think, if I remember correctly, I was given the exact same homework as you.”

“So what did you do?” she asked. “What are your techniques? Because honestly, the only one I can think of is the breathing regulating one.”

Oliver pushed himself so he was facing her and could make eye contact. This was a serious discussion, grounding techniques. He wanted her to know that he wasn’t going to joke around and he wanted to help her. “The one that works best for me is the five senses focus one. Every heard of that before?”

She shook her head, appearing intrigued.

“Okay, so, you use all of your senses, but only one at a time. You try and shut off everything else while focusing on one sense. So you start off by using your sight to focus on one thing near you, and try and catalog everything about it. Then you use your hearing, focus on something you hear, analyze that. And you continue and keep going through using your sense of smell, your sense of touch and then, if it’s appropriate, your sense of taste. And if you do it correctly, it should help you become much more aware of your environment and ground you to the present.”

“That sounds easy,” Felicity responded, smiling.

“It sounds easy, but try doing that while having a panic attack,” he reminded her. “It’s much more difficult than it seems, but if you practice, you get used to it and start doing it automatically.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Felicity slipped her hand into his, entwining their fingers so she could squeeze his hand. “Thanks. I’ll definitely have to try that out.”

At that point, both of their service dogs bounded over, vying for their masters’ attentions. They threw their empty coffee cups in the trash, fitting Ziggy and Leo with their vests and clipping their leashes back on. They headed out of the park side by side and Oliver insisted on walking Felicity home to her apartment. People narrowed their eyes and stared at them as they strode past, eyeing their service dogs with suspicion and curiosity, but Oliver was used to their ogling by now. Felicity seemed a little nervous about it, linking her arm with his and keeping her gaze lowered. He tried to distract her by discussing times they could meet up in the park in the mornings, and it sort of worked.

“See you Friday morning at seven in the park then?” he questioned, leaning on her apartment door frame as they said their goodbyes. “I’ll bring the coffee.”

“And I’ll bring the croissants,” she beamed. “And dog treats.”

“Right, can’t forget the dog treats,” he said, grinning. “Okay, see you then!”

“Keep going at your homework,” Felicity encouraged.

“You too. Bye!”

* * *

For the next three months after that, Oliver and Felicity had twice-a-week hangouts; Wednesday late mornings after both of them had therapy and Friday mornings, where they’d meet up in the park at seven am to sit together while their dogs played. They even visited each other at work occasionally, dropping by for a chat and bringing donuts and coffee for each other. Oliver had to admit that he was growing to care about Felicity quite a lot. A surprising amount. He’d even go as far to say that he had a crush on her.

As they got to know each other a lot more, Felicity started flirting with Oliver, although he never knew if she was actually intentionally flirting, because her tendency to babble meant that she did accidentally come out with innuendos sometimes. Diggle and Lyla seemed to love the dancing back and forth thing Oliver and Felicity had going on between them, the receptionist enjoying teasing both of them about their closeness. Leo and Ziggy adored each other and had become best friends, and seemed to know there was something going on between their humans, vanishing off to give their owners alone time together whenever the sexual tension welled.

They were out for coffee together on Wednesday morning, exactly three months to the day they first met, when Oliver asked nervously, “William’s coming over this weekend and we’re going to the beach, do you want to come and hang out with us?”

Beaming, Felicity responded, “Sure!” before returning to feeding Ziggy and Leo each half a slice of bacon from her breakfast sandwich.

Whether Felicity knew it or not, this was a big step for Oliver. He’d never invited anybody to join him and William at the weekend. His time with his son was precious and they had they so little of it, and their days together were numbered as Samantha had signed Will up for a summer camp for over three-quarters of his summer break - taking away five weeks of time Oliver had custody of him. He’d been outraged when first finding out, but Laurel told him there was nothing he could do.

“I’ll pick you up from your apartment at nine am, if that’s okay,” he told her. “There’s a nice beach with gentle waters down the coast about half an hour from here.”

“Should I bring a wetsuit?” she questioned, sipping her orange juice. “The ocean’s got to be cold this time of year.”

“I wasn’t planning on swimming, but Will’s having a surfing lesson from one of my friends down there, so you could join him. And yes, I’d say you’ll want a wetsuit.”

“I won’t swim if you won’t,” she decided. “We can take Ziggy and Leo on a walk down the beach while William has his lesson.”

Saturday couldn’t arrive quick enough after that. Felicity had to cancel their hangout on Friday because she had an early morning meeting with the board of her company, and Oliver found himself missing her when he took Leo to the park alone. The German shepherd ran around with much less energy, looking sad that his buddy Ziggy wasn’t around to play with him. Samantha dropped William off at Oliver’s apartment on Friday evening, saying she’d be back Sunday night to pick him back up, and making both her son and Oliver promise not to get into any trouble.

Oliver pulled Samantha aside just before she left while William was busy packing his wetsuit and towels for surfing. “I wanted to let you know that it’s not going to be just me and Will this weekend. I have a… friend who is coming with us.”

“Friend,” Samantha deadpanned. “Is this a female friend?”

“Yes.”

“Please tell me all of the rooms here are soundproofed.”

“We’re not like that,” he shook his head. “We - she’s just a friend. We go to the same therapist and go to the park with our service dogs together.”

“Great,” Samantha muttered under her breath, not sounding pleased. “So my son’s going to be hanging out with _two_ people messed up in the head this weekend instead of one.”

Anger flared within Oliver’s chest and he took a step towards her, towering over her intimidatingly. “How dare you,” he said, his voice lethally quiet. “How _dare_ you label Felicity and I like that. You don’t know either or us, and you certainly don’t have any right to judge us.” Motioning to the door, he finished shortly, “Please leave.”

Samantha rushed away, suitably chastised, like a dog with her tail between her legs. Pushing down the fury that had overwhelmed him for a moment, Oliver ran a hand over his face with a heavy sigh. Sure, he was mentally ill, and Felicity was too, but that did not make them bad people. William was always completely safe with his dad, and he would be safe with Felicity too. How dare Samantha imply that Will spending time with his dad and Felicity was a bad thing. Will called him over to ask about protective water shoes at that moment, providing him with the perfect distraction. 

He was surprised the next morning when he heard a knock on the door as he was cooking up scrambled eggs and bacon as breakfast for him, William and Leo. Not expecting any visitors or deliveries at eight in the morning, Oliver approached the front door with a suspicion born from paranoia. Leo jumped down from the couch from where he was sitting next to William, watching the boy play Halo, and followed his master. His ears were perked and lips drawn back in a silent protective snarl. Reassured that he had his dog beside him, Oliver opened the door.

He almost fell over in his shock. “Felicity!” Oliver choked. Leo snorted, brushing his muzzle against Ziggy’s in greeting before turning on the spot, heading back to his younger master. “You’re… here?”

She smiled at him excitedly, bouncing on the heels of her feet. “Hi! Sorry, I know I’m early and that you were meant to pick me up, but I decided to save you the journey and walked over. Oh, I brought breakfast muffins!” Lifting the paper bag she was holding in her left hand, she shook it front of him enticingly. “Let me in? Please?” Ziggy, who was sitting on his haunches beside her, looked up at Oliver with a pleading gaze.

“I was just making Will, Leo and I bacon and eggs,” he told her, stepping back to let her pass. “Do you want some?”

“Oh, yes please!” After a beat, however, Felicity froze. Her eyes widened. “Wait, Will. This is our first time meeting.”

“Yes?”

“Oh god, what if he doesn’t like me?” Felicity worried, trembling nimble fingers pulling at the sleeves of her jacket. Sensing her anxiety, her service dog leaned into her legs with a whine. “Oliver, what if he _hates me?!”_

“Nobody could ever hate you,” Oliver reassured her, his voice firm and sure. He knew he was telling the truth, that was why he was so certain.

“What if he doesn’t want me to come along? I’m encroaching on your father-son bonding time, maybe I shouldn’t come, maybe I should leave -”

He cut in with a soft, “Felicity,” before she could work herself into too much of an anxious state. Oliver pulled her in for a gentle hug, trapping her against his chest. Her hyperventilating quickly stopped, her heartbeat syncing to his and slowing down. “Calm down. It’s okay. William is going to love you.”

“You can’t know that,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

Drawing away and cupping her face tenderly, he whispered, “Yes, I do.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

Sighing, he dropped an affectionate kiss on her forehead and tugged her back into his embrace. “Because I love you, and anybody would be an idiot not to. I _want_ you to come. You’re my best friend and a massive part of my life now just like Will is. I want my two favorite people in the world to meet so we can all hang out together.”

Felicity looked dubious, and also a little confused. “You… love me?”

Oliver could feel his cheeks heating up and knew he was blushing.

“As a friend,” she finished.

Disappointment panged in his heart but he quickly squashed it. “Yeah. Of course I do. And Will is gonna love you too.” Jerking her hand, Oliver began trying to lead her into the heart of his apartment. “Come on. My bacon is still in the frying pan and I don’t want it to burn. You can introduce yourself and Ziggy to Will while I’m cooking.”

He left Felicity at the threshold of the living room, not wanting to drag her in when she was already so nervous. Returning to the kitchen, he kept a careful eye on Felicity as she stood in the doorway, completely still and watching William, who hadn’t noticed her yet, play on his PS4. The twelve-year-old only noticed her presence when Leo’s head shot up from where it was resting on his lap.

“Hi,” Felicity said shyly.

“Hi,” William said, dropping his PS4 controller and offering her his hand politely. “I’m William.”

“I know,” she smiled. “Your dad talks about you a lot. Wait, that sounded a bit weird, especially since you don’t know who I am. I’m your dad’s -”

“- girlfriend?” Will completed, his tone questioning and strangely hopeful.

“Ah, no. Not - not girlfriend. We’re just friends. Best friends.”

William shrugged. “Okay. Are you coming with Dad and I to the beach?” He glanced eagerly down at Ziggy. “Are you bringing your dog?”

“If that’s alright with you, yeah. And Ziggy’s my service dog and he loves the beach, so he will definitely be coming.”

“It’s cool. Is Ziggy how you met my dad? Since you both have service dogs.”

“Um, kind of? We actually go to the same therapist and we met when your dad gave me a donut after I got a bit upset after a bad session.”

Oliver held his breath, and he could see Felicity doing the same, concerned that William might react badly to that information. He had faint suspicions that Samantha didn’t speak about Oliver very kindly at home; he didn’t know what Will thought of his dad attending therapy, or even if the twelve-year-old understood what depression and PTSD were.

But William just replied, “Nice. Wanna play Halo with me while Dad finishes cooking?”

“Sure.” Oliver grinned as his son shifted to the other side of the couch, clearing a space for Felicity to take a seat beside him. The two service dogs settled down on top of their feet. “But I should warn you, I’m a total badass on the PS4 and I will kick your butt.”

“Dad says I’m not allowed to say badass.”

“Right, you’re twelve… but I’m an adult so I’m allowed to. And I’m going to destroy you.”

“Competitive much?”

“Not really.”

“Have you ever even played Halo before?” Will laughed. And it was such an amused, carefree sound that Oliver almost burst out crying, because he’d _never_ heard his son laugh like that before.

Felicity snatched up her PS4 controller, a look of pure determination on her face. “Nope. But I’m a fast learner and I’m stubborn as hell so I will master this quickly enough to beat you.”

They began playing, and the last thing Oliver saw before he turned his attention back to cooking was Felicity sticking her tongue out of her mouth in concentration. It was adorable and made him chuckle. He continued half-listening to their conversation as he started on the scrambled eggs, sliding the bacon onto a plate and into the oven to keep warm.

“Your dad mentioned you like the STEM subjects?”

“Yeah, I just find them really interesting.”

“What do you think is your favorite subject?”

“Um, at the moment, biology. I’m doing this cool project on transgenic spider goats I have to present next week.”

“Those are the goats that they’ve genetically modified to produce spider silk, right?”

“Yeah, they’re awesome. I’m gonna talk about the medical implications and advancements of transgenic species but I’m kind of struggling explaining the recombinant DNA concept right now because my diagrams aren’t very good.”

Felicity glanced over at Oliver, and he was proud to see that she looked suitably impressed. He grinned; now she knew for certain that he hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told her his son was a genius. Oliver had been fighting tooth and nail to get Samantha to allow him to pay for William to go to a private school, where he would receive proper teaching to his level of high intelligence, but she continued to refuse, saying that Will’s normal school with all his normal friends was exactly what he needed. Maybe, with Felicity at his side and supporting him, Oliver would be able to talk with Samantha again in the future about William needing to change schools so he could be pushed academically.

“Hey, have you heard about the Holosphere?” Felicity asked. “It’s the newest thing on the tech market. Maybe one of those could help you out.”

“The Holosphere that creates 3D holographic images? Yeah, of course I’ve heard about it! It’s all the IT teachers at school are talking about these days. But they’re not even out on the commercial market yet and not set to be for another two years, so there’s no chance of getting one.”

“I can get one for you.”

“How could you get one?”

“I… may be affiliated with the company that produces them.”

“You’ve got connections with Smoak Technologies?”

“You could say that.”

“How?”

Oliver snickered and called out, “Tell William what your last name is, Felicity.”

He presumed that she must have told him, because the next thing that happened was William shouting out, “NO WAY!” in disbelief and dropping his PS4 controller. “No way! That’s _not_ true! You’re the CEO of Smoak Technologies!? I am not worthy to be in your presence. Can I have your autograph?”

Serving up three plates of bacon and eggs with a breakfast muffin on each of them, Oliver placed them down on the breakfast bar and announced, “Breakfast’s ready! Come and sit down.”

William hurried over and hopped up onto his stool, digging in with gusto. “I can’t believe you’re friends with Felicity Smoak,” he whispered to Oliver fiercely. “She’s like the coolest person _ever_.”

“Sometimes I can’t believe it either,” he offered with a smile. “Do you want OJ or water?”

“OJ, please,” his son requested, mouth stuffed full of oat and blueberry muffin.

“Can I have coffee please?” Felicity asked. She slid into her seat next to William and nudged him in the side with a grin, pointing at a napkin. He shook his head, still in disbelief about who exactly she was, but pushed a napkin across the counter to her. “I need to caffeinate this morning.”

“I only have decaf at home,” Oliver said sheepishly. 

Felicity appeared aghast. “Excuse me?”

“Caffeine is a stimulant as has been scientifically proven to increase anxiety levels, especially early in the morning,” he explained. “Has Dig not told you about yet?”

“He has, but I can’t survive without a cup of coffee before walking Ziggy.” Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she finally agreed, “I’ll have the decaf then, please. Better than nothing, I suppose.”

“We can grab coffee on the way out of the city through a drive-through,” he reassured her, placing William’s glass of OJ down in front of him. Bending down, Oliver fed Leo and then Ziggy a slice of bacon each before giving his service dog his proper meal of kibble. The golden retriever tried to stick his head into the food bowl but Leo nipped at him with a growl, body-slamming the other dog away so he could eat in peace. “Has Ziggy eaten this morning?”

“Yeah, but he’s got a bottomless stomach,” Felicity sighed.

“This one does too,” Oliver replied, nodding towards his son with a smirk.

“I am a growing boy,” William defended himself. “I need the protein.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, buddy. That’s why you ate a whole packet of Oreos by yourself last night after dinner.”

“What did you expect?” Felicity said. “You don’t just open a packet of Oreos and have one or two, Oliver. That’s pathetic. You have to eat the whole thing.”

“Exactly!” William nodded furiously. “See! Felicity gets it!”

“Starting to regret introducing you two.” Oliver ruffled Leo’s scruff and petted Ziggy gently when he gave them both fresh bowls of water, which they lapped from eagerly. “I can sense you’re gonna team up against me in the future.”

He felt something bounce off the back of his head. Bemused, he straightened up and spotted what had hit him on the floor very briefly before Leo lunged and scarfed it up. Turning around slowly, Oliver saw both Felicity and William shaking from silent chuckles.

“Did you just throw a piece of muffin at me?” he questioned incredulously.

“Don’t look at me!” Felicity shot him an innocent look and pointed at Will. “It was him!”

“Hey, no it wasn’t!” he protested. “It was _you!_ ”

Sticking her tongue out at his son, Felicity whipped around to face Oliver and stated dramatically, “You’ll never take me alive!” She leaped down from her stool and ran for it, but Oliver chased after her.

Tackling her down onto the living room couch, Oliver tickled over his stomach and sides furiously, grinning massively when Felicity squirmed beneath him, gasping and wheezing as she laughed uncontrollably. Leo, Ziggy and Will watched on from the kitchen, unimpressed but entertained.

“Ack! No! Stawwwp!” she whined, still giggling.

“Nope, you deserve this! You assaulted me with baked goods!” He continued ticking her, laughing himself as she squealed, batting his hands away.

“Beg for mercy, Felicity, that’s the only way you’ll get Dad to release you!” Will shouted, throwing more pieces of muffin at Oliver’s back from his stool.

“Nooo, Oliver, stawwwp! I surrender! I surrender!”

Within seconds of her saying those words, Oliver froze and flashed back. Flashing memories of child soldiers he and his unit were firing on because they had taken civilians hostage screaming that they wanted to surrender, but he and his men continuing to shoot because they had been ordered to kill any and all enemies within the area. He didn’t realize he was struggling to breathe, trembling and losing all motor control until Felicity managed to scramble out from underneath him in time to avoid getting crushed as he fell onto the couch.

Leo howled and sprinted forwards, crashing into Oliver’s body and desperately trying to ground him, licking his face and hands. He could sense the dog there and attempting to calm him down, but Oliver was stuck in the memories. All he could see in front of him was a tiny teenage boy cowering with a machine gun in his hands, rambling in Arabic frantically. But Oliver hadn’t shown any mercy. He’d seen the boy cocking the gun towards him as he was placing it on the ground to surrender, and he’d shot the child in the head. The German shepherd whimpered above him, realizing he was already too far gone to retrieve him from the flashbacks. Ziggy slunk up beside them, placing his head next to Leo’s, but remained quiet.

“Shit, _shit, shit,_ ” Felicity murmured to herself, hands flitting over his body. “William, quickly, grab me an icepack from the freezer or something. Oliver, come on, you have to breathe. You _need_ to breathe.”

Dizziness swamped him and yes, that was because he was holding his breath. Oliver didn’t want to hyperventilate, didn’t want the extra oxygen fuelling the adrenaline already pumping through his arteries. He already felt sick, wanting to throw up. The horrid stench of blood was filling his nose, despite the fact he knew it wasn’t real, there wasn’t any blood in the room with him. 

“Oliver, _BREATHE,_ ” Felicity yelled.

He inhaled sharply, the sudden oxygen intake hitting him like a truck. He gagged, but nothing came up. Jerking when he felt hands on his body, he was only half-aware of his surroundings as Felicity turned him over onto his side on the couch cushions, sitting down so she could cradle his head in her lap. Leo nuzzled at his face, sitting down in front of him so he could occasionally lick his neck.

“Thank you, Will,” he heard her say.

“I couldn’t find an icepack,” his son responded, voice shaking.

“This is great,” Felicity assured him gently. “Ice in a plastic bag is just as good as an icepack, maybe even better.” Oliver startled when he felt a brush of cold air hit his chest. Somebody had taken his shirt off. He heard Felicity mutter, “Oh my _god_ ,” in horror, most probably at the sight of his scars, but before he could process that, he felt unexpected coldness on his chest.

The coldness dragged him back into the present, but he was still there, on the fringes of the battlefield. Every breath took an immense amount of effort and Oliver was weighed down by his exhaustion. He couldn’t even feel his arms or legs. At least he wasn’t stuck in that nightmare of a flashback anymore.

“Is Dad gonna be okay?” William asked quietly.

“I’m sure he will be,” Felicity answered. “Look, Will, do you think you could grab your dad’s cell phone for me? I’m sitting on mine and I don’t wanna disturb his head right now.”

William’s presence vanished for a moment before reappearing a dozen or so seconds later. “Who are you gonna call?”

“Our therapist.” There was a pause, and then Felicity said softly, “Hi, Lyla, it’s Felicity. Listen, is Mr Diggle available to speak for a minute? It’s kind of an emergency. No, it’ll only take a couple of minutes. Thank you so much. John? Hi. I’m so sorry to interrupt your prep time. No, it’s not me, it’s Oliver. He got triggered by something I said and had a panic attack. Yes, he did for a few minutes, but he seems to be breathing okay now. Will and I have given him an icepack and he’s come out of it, but is there anything else we should do? Hmm. Yeah. Okay. Yep. Thank you so much. See you on Wednesday. Yeah, I’ll ask him to text you later. Okay. Bye.”

Oliver felt his legs being shifted carefully and the couch dip beneath him there. “Is there anything we can do to help him more?” William questioned.

“Yeah, actually. Diggle said Oliver keeps chamomile tea bags here?”

“Yeah, I know where they are. Should I make a cup?”

“Yes please.” Shuddering as he felt Felicity’s fingers threading through his hair, Oliver managed to reach out with his hand and clutch onto her knee. “Oh. Hey, Oliver, can you hear me? Just tighten your fingers.” He crushed her hand as much as he could despite how weak he felt. She sighed in relief. “Okay, great. I’m here for you, alright? William, Leo and Ziggy too. You don’t have to get up. Just rest.”

He nodded.

Tapping Oliver’s arm, Felicity suggested, “Do you want to do the five senses thing to calm down some more?”

He screwed up his face and shook his head. No. He didn’t want to. That was too much effort and he was too exhausted for that.

“Okay, we won’t. That’s fine.” She added on very quietly, as if saying it to herself, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a flashback induced panic attack that awful.”

Tired, Oliver squeezed his eyes closed and allowed the darkness to wash over him. His sleep was restless but dreamless, which he appreciated. When he woke up again, it was to Felicity and his son both calling his name softly. He stared up at them both blearily, not quite taking in their faces or expressions but comforted by the fact that they were both there for him.

Felicity grasped his shoulders, pausing when Oliver flinched but then beginning to massage them as he slowly relaxed.“Can you sit up for us?”

He managed to nod and with Leo’s help, the service dog slinking up onto the couch and pushing him up, Oliver got himself into a sitting position. He leaned heavily against Felicity’s body and rested his forehead on her arm. Swallowing, Oliver raised his shaking hands and took the cup of chamomile tea William was holding out for him, aiming a grateful but ashamed glance his way. William should never have had to see Oliver in this state. His son should never have had to see his father broken down into pieces and vulnerable.

“I don’t think we’re going to the beach today, Dad,” his son said, the joking tone of his voice falling flat.

“We can still go,” he choked out.

“No, William is right,” Felicity said firmly. “We’re not going. Drink your tea.” She had to support his hands as Oliver raised the mug to his mouth and took a gulpful of the hot drink, but the pleased expression on her face as he succeeded sent a pang of happiness through his body. “Good.”

Leo nudged the ice pack that had fallen from Oliver’s bare chest into his hands onto his owner’s stomach, causing him to wince. The scar tissue from his shark bite stung, sensitive due to the cold. Extremely aware of how exposed he was in front of William and Felicity right now, Oliver hunched into himself. Neither of them had ever seen his scars before but weren’t staring, not like any of the doctors or nurses he’d seen when he’d first arrived back in civilization. But he still didn’t like how bare and unprotected he currently felt.

“Can I have my shirt back, please?” he asked in a croak.

Ziggy dropped the scrap of fabric in his lap. Oliver scrambled to pull it on that he would have got it caught over his head if William hadn’t darted forwards, stopping him from accidentally strangling himself before helping his father out.

“Will… I’m sorry…”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” the twelve-year-old said quickly. “Dad, honestly, it’s _okay._ ”

“No, it isn’t. I’m… mentally ill and weak and -”

“You’re not weak,” William shook his head. “You could never be weak.”

“My scars -”

“Prove that you fought through many hardships but came out the other side stronger,” Felicity interrupted him firmly. “Your scars aren’t shameful, Oliver.”

“They’re ugly.”

“Anybody who says that needs to get better glasses,” she retorted. “Because I think they’re beautiful. They’re marks on your skin showing your resilience and courage. They map out the journey you took to get back here alive. They show that you suffered but you _survived_. That you came close to death, but you’re still alive today.”

“That’s all I ever wanted,” William said quietly. “A dad who was alive.”

“You deserve a better father.”

“I deserve the _best_ father, and as far as I’m aware, I already have him,” William answered.

Oliver inhaled, his breath hitching as he covered his eyes with his hands and rubbed his face. He wasn’t going to ever be able to believe what William was saying, but he was going to continue to fight to be the best father he could possibly be until he met his own high standards.

“I’m sorry,” Felicity told him.

Scraping his bottom lip with his top teeth, he mumbled, “Why?”

“I triggered you. With… what I said. I know that I didn’t know, and I know you’re going to say it wasn’t my fault because I didn’t know, but I still feel guilty. Sorry. It’s an anxiety thing. And a human thing in general, I think.”

He gave a small nod. “Thank you.”

“We’re going to hug you now,” Felicity said. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure? We won’t if you don’t want us to.”

“S’okay,” he murmured, averting his gaze bashfully. He didn’t want to admit that he was craving the physical comfort, but he wanted them to embrace him. He needed to feel loved. But he couldn’t say that aloud.

William and Felicity sandwiched Oliver and wrapped their arms around him. Instantly he clammed up, flinching as he anticipated getting hit, but he reminded himself these were his son and best friend hugging him. He could feel Leo’s whiskers dancing over his hands and Ziggy’s warm weight pressing into his feet.

He was home. And he was safe.

* * *

“And then he had the gall to call _me_ sexist! _ME!_ After everything he’d just said! Can you believe that?! Honestly, I was appalled! I’m dead set on sending calling Mr Palmer to tell him if his CTO doesn’t issue a formal apology by next Monday, he can kiss our R &D collaborative project goodbye. I will _not_ tolerate blatant sexism and borderline sexual harassment from horrible men like that!"

Oliver smiled, leaning his chin on his hand, which was propped on the bench that he and Felicity were sitting on in the dog park together. Their service dogs were off running about, this time playing with a couple of other dogs that were present in the park while they were off duty. It had been a week since his particularly bad PTSD episode and he was relieved that Felicity didn’t seem to be treating him any differently because of it. He loved watching Felicity get so passionate about what she was talking about, a myriad of emotions sweeping over her face as she made wild hand motions, almost sloshing coffee from her take-out cup all over the ground.

“Hey! Oliver!” she poked him. “Why are you smiling? Aren’t you enraged by the imbeciles that I have to put up with for the sake of my company?”

“Oh, I’m furious,” he agreed, grinning at her.

“Then why are you smiling?”

“You’re adorable when you’re angry.”

All of her frustration immediately vanished and Felicity sat up straighter, protesting, “No, I’m not!” with such a cute pout that Oliver chuckled.

“Yes, you really are.”

She grumbled under her breath, kicking his calf with the toe of his boot. “Not adorable.”

“ _Soooo_ adorable,” he teased.

“Alright, enough with that,” she scowled, giving him a weak, one-armed shove. Scooting closer so they could link arms and help shield each other from the biting morning wind, Felicity dropped her head onto Oliver’s shoulder and questioned, “So I’ve told you about the horrors of the Smoak Tech boardroom meetings I’ve been having to deal with. What’s going on in the life of Oliver Queen right now?”

He couldn’t help it - he closed up a little bit. His life had not been exactly perfect lately. Shrugging, Oliver muttered, “Not much.”

Frowning, Felicity jabbed her fingers into his stomach, causing him to yelp. “Bad Oliver.”

“What was that for?”

“Lying. I thought we agreed no lying. You lied just then. Bad Oliver.”

Rubbing his aching stomach, he tilted his head sideways at her, confused. “How’d you know I was lying?”

“Your muscles tensed up here,” she squeezed his bicep, not realizing at all that what she was doing could be seen as her feeling him up. “You always stiffen up when you’re lying.”

“I do?” he questioned, frowning.

“Yup, those special forces lying skills seem to have faded quickly in the two years since you’ve been back. Come on, talk to me. I’ll be your therapist for today.”

“You do remember that I _just_ had therapy this morning.”

“Nuh uh, not a proper excuse, come on. Tell Dr Smoak your troubles and woes.”

“Troubles and woes?” he repeated, amused.

“What’s eating at yah insides?”

“Never say that again.”

“Spill the beans, and I won’t have to. _Pleeeeaaaaase_?”

Oliver sighed but gave in. Whenever Felicity aimed those sweet puppy dog eyes his way, he always caved. “There’s… a lot going on right now. Three major things in particular.” Seeing how Felicity’s expression only grew even more curious, he settled back to make himself comfortable, and began to explain. “Well, first of all, Will must have mentioned something to his mom about what happened last week, because I had Samantha call me up two days ago telling me that I needed to ‘stop letting my messed up head’ affect my time with my son otherwise she’s not going to let him come over as often. Which was not good.”

Felicity winced, looking sympathetic. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“Then, yesterday, my manager at the gym, his name’s Quentin Lance, he confronted me about the fact that I don’t work Wednesday mornings and Tommy and Sara, the other trainers, have to cover for me. Demanded an explanation for that. Yelled at me for about half an hour that he would fire me if I didn’t pick up an extra five hours somewhere to make up for it. At which point I snapped and told him I was only missing Wednesday mornings for therapy because you know, ex-special forces soldier with crippling mental health issues.”

“Yikes.”

“Yup. ‘Yikes’ describes it precisely.”

“How did he take that?”

“Um… actually pretty well. He’s ex-police himself so I guess he understands the whole PTSD thing. The thing that made it awful was that I snapped the exact moment my self-defense class arrived.”

“How many people?”

“Fourteen.”

“They all heard?” she whispered.

“Yup. I’m just glad none of them straight up walked out.”

“Did you expect some of them to, if they ever found out?”

“I don’t know, really,” he rubbed at his eyes tiredly. “I didn’t expect for them to ever be in the position or get the chance to find out at all. But I checked with reception and none of them requested to be moved to different classes after that, which is a good thing, I guess.”

“And the third and last major thing?”

Oliver turned to her and said flatly, “I got a call this morning telling me one of the men in my old special ops force died.” He’d been forcing his emotions down ever since the phone call, but now they were starting to spill out, his chest tightening and hands feeling numb and shaky. “He, um, he died in an IED explosion.” 

Felicity instantly shifted so she could hug him, holding him tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

“No, it’s not,” he admitted. “But I’m trying to hold myself together.”

Threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his head soothingly, Felicity gently urged him to lower his head so his forehead was resting on her chest, and she could place her chin on his crown. Usually it was the other way around due to their height difference, but due to how curled up he was, she could envelop him in a hug for once. Oliver found he quite liked it. The feeling of being held was comforting.

“You don’t have to hold yourself together,” she reminded him. “You don’t have to put a mask on for me.”

“I know, I don’t,” he sighed. “It’s just… hard to talk about this. We lose men every day in the field. It’s devastating it had to be this guy though - he was only twenty-three. I wasn’t very close to him, but we were brothers in arms - we had each other’s backs. We probably saved each other’s lives numerous times.” Pulling away from her, he finished quietly, “Makes me realize how lucky I am to be here, home and safe, and not out in the active war zones like I was before.”

“Well, I’m sure as hell grateful you are here and not there,” Felicity told him firmly. “You’re needed here. William needs you. I need you.”

He scoffed, glancing away. “You don’t need me.”

“Yes, I do. There would be a massive, gaping Oliver-sized hole in my life if you weren’t in it.” Felicity spluttered. “Not - not that I’m implying that you’re massive or anything. Although you do have huge muscles.”

Laughing softly, Oliver pressed a kiss to the side of her head and murmured, “Thank you, Felicity.”

“I also feel like I have an obligation to tell you something else.”

“Okay.”

“Very serious thing.”

“Go on.”

“There is currently a chihuahua humping your dog.”

Oliver’s head whipped around and he raked his gaze over the park frantically until he saw the German shepherd cowering near a tree as a tiny brown chihuahua humped at his leg eagerly. Rolling his eyes, Oliver jumped to his feet to go and rescue Leo. He noticed Felicity was much less urgent, stifling her giggles behind her hand, as her golden retriever service dog was sitting a few feet away from where Leo and the chihuahua were, cocking his head sideways at them both in confusion.

Leo wagged his tail in relief when Oliver approached, sprinting away from the chihuahua as Oliver gently pulled the tiny dog away from him. Ziggy raced up to Felicity, bouncing around her but calming instantly when she slipped his service vest and leash back on. Clipping Leo’s leash onto his collar, he led the dog out of the park with Felicity and Ziggy at his side.

“Want to grab a bite to eat?” he suggested.

“Sure! Hey, I finally tracked down the bakery that Lyla gets the Wednesday morning donuts from. It’s not far from here, maybe a block down. Want to go and raid them of cupcakes?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Operation Cupcake Acquirement is officially in motion.”

They found the bakery eventually after around an hour of wandering around, as they didn’t know its exact name or location. Due to Felicity being needed back at the office for an emergency, however, they only had the time to pop in quickly and buy their food, waiting in one of the booths as Felicity’s PA was sending a driver around to pick her and Ziggy up. When the car arrived, Felicity dropping a kiss onto Oliver’s head and ruffled Leo’s fur, saying goodbye to them both; she rushed out of the bakery with the golden retriever at her heels, shouting back that she would text him later.

As he was starting to dig into his sausage roll, Oliver noticed that Felicity had left her coat on her seat. Rolling his eyes, he gathered it into his arms. By the time he stepped outside though, the car was long gone. He checked his watch. He had an hour and a half before his first Wednesday class began; he had time to run around to Smoak Tech HQ and drop off the jacket.

Polishing off his pastry and feeding the end of it to Leo, he tucked Felicity’s coat under his arm and headed out of the bakery. Leo carried the plastic bag that contained his box full of cupcakes happily as they began the twenty-minute walk to the Smoak Tech building.

“Hey, Marcus,” Oliver greeted the doorman as they finally reached the building. “How are you doing?”

“Very well, thank you, Mr Queen!” the man responded cheerfully. He always perked up a little bit when Oliver visited Smoak Tech, probably because he was the only person who ever bothered to greet the doorman by name. “You here to visit Miss Smoak?”

“She left her coat with me accidentally this morning,” he answered.

“Let me walk you through and get your visitor badge,” Marcus told him, holding the door open as Oliver stepped inside. He pretended he didn’t see the doorman slip his hand into his pocket and quickly feed the German shepherd a mint, smirking. “There’s a bit of a queue right now because there’s a couple of school groups here being taken on tours around our new R&D labs.”

Oliver already had a permanent plastic badge printed for him seeing how he visited quite often, so Marcus only had to slip behind the reception desk and grab it for him. Thanking the doorman profusely, Oliver and Leo stepped into the elevator to go up to the Executive Offices floor. Which just so happened to be the penthouse floor. Some of the other ST employees in the elevator shot him weird, confused looks, knowing that he didn’t work at the company, but a couple of them, who Oliver had run into before, said hello.

Jerry, Felicity’s PA, was bouncing on his heels and waiting for Oliver and Leo when they arrived at the correct floor. Marcus must have called up to warn them that they were coming.

“Hey, Oliver!” Jerry said, beaming. “Nice to see you again!”

“You too, Jerry,” Oliver smiled. “Is Felicity in a meeting, or…?”

“She’s in her office looking over an investor proposal right now, I can take you to her,” the PA responded, leading him down the corridor. “How was your walk in the park and bakery trip this morning?”

“Great. I bought some cupcakes - do you want one?”

“Felicity already gifted me with one of those caramel swirl ones, it was divine.” Felicity’s glass-walled office came into view, and Jerry knocked on the transparent door lightly. The CEO was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t even look up, just making a vague noise to signal they could come in. “If you want tea or hot cocoa or anything, give me a shout!”

“Oh, we’re not staying long,” Oliver reassured him. “But thanks anyway.” He let himself into the office, closing the door carefully behind him. Leo padded forwards to go and say hi to Ziggy, who was curled up in his dog basket near the foot of the desk. “Felicity?”

She glanced up, looking perplexed and then surprised. “Oliver!”

“You left your coat,” he informed her, draping it over the back of her chair.

“OH! Thank you so much!”

He slid into his usual seat, shrugging off his own jacket and propping it on the chair arm. “I hear you have some intriguing reading material.”

Felicity groaned, re-ordering the papers in her hands. “Yeah, Merlyn Global wants to invest in our spinal implant project. We’re trying to mass-produce the implant chip that cured my paralysis so eventually we can make it more widely available and affordable for the public, but it’s difficult. I’ve already had three other companies contacting me about being interested in investing.”

“And the problem is…?”

“I’m concerned they’re interested in investing for the wrong reasons. That they’re only interested because they think it’s going to make a large profit. But the way the project is going…” She bit her lip nervously, glancing over his shoulder to check nobody was eavesdropping. “We’re actually going to lose money. I’ve been checking all the business models and it isn’t looking good. I have the Head of R&D, Curtis Holt, working on trying to reduce the price it costs to produce each chip… but so far, the cheapest it’s going to be with the current design is five million dollars each.”

“Does the board know yet?”

“No. I don’t know how I’m going to tell them. It’s kind of upsetting, to be honest. I really wanted to be able to make this implant accessible to everybody who’s disabled, no matter their income or state of living. But right now, it looks like only the millionaires are going to be able to afford it.” Sighing, she gazed back down at her papers. “Hopefully we’ll be able to figure something out to fix this mess when we have more funds thanks to the investors. I’ve got another two proposals to read before I have to make my decision tomorrow.”

Oliver raised his chin so he could properly look down at her desk, which was currently covered with paperwork. “How many pages is each proposal?”

“This one I’m reading right now is thirty.”

“I won’t stay and distract you then,” he decided, standing. “I’ll let you get on with your work. I’m just a phone call away if you want to discuss things or use me as a sounding board before you make any decisions. See you on Friday?”

“Friday,” she agreed, smiling gently. “Thanks for bringing my coat.”

“You’re welcome.” He picked out a strawberry cheesecake cupcake from his pastry box and placed it on the edge of her desk. “For later. When you need the sugar pick-me-up.”

“You’re the best,” Felicity told him. “The actual best.”

“I know.” He whistled, calling Leo over. “Bye, Felicity.”

Oliver managed to get to the gym in time for him to change and run his usual weights class without a hitch, and picked up his co-worker Sara’s self-defense class when she had to leave due to her girlfriend, Nyssa, being ill. A couple of the people in the self-defense class were those who had witnessed him snapping about going to therapy to Lance, and although they spoke to Oliver cautiously at first, they soon became comfortable with him again. Leo rested on top of the pile of yoga mats in the corner of the studio room, observing the classes lazily. He flicked his tail over his owner’s arm when Oliver walked over to stroke him during one of the water breaks.

As the class ended and all of the clients left to hit the showers, Tommy stuck his head around the door and yelled, “Yo, Ollie, your hot girlfriend is in reception to see you!”

“Felicity’s not my girlfriend, Tommy!” he shouted back at him, toweling his sweaty hair hastily before following his friend and co-worker around of the studio. He didn’t know why everybody at work seemed to revel in teasing Oliver about Felicity being his girlfriend, but he knew they weren’t going to give it up anytime soon. Leo jumped down from the mat pile to trail behind his owner, yawning tiredly. “What’s she here for?”

“You forgot your jacket in her office or something? I dunno,” Tommy snickered, vanishing into his own studio room and pointing him down to reception.

Oliver face-palmed. As he’d been dropping off Felicity’s coat which she’d forgotten at the bakery, he’d forgotten his own jacket in her office. He was such an idiot.

“Thank you so much,” he greeted her with, as he entered reception to see Felicity standing near the counter with his jacket in her grasp. Leo ran up and nuzzled at Ziggy, who was sitting calmly at Felicity’s side. “I can’t believe I left my jacket while giving back yours.”

She laughed. “It’s okay! Although I have to tell you, Jerry thought it was hilarious.”

“I bet you did too.”

“It’s a little bit funny, you have to admit.”

“Yeah, it is,” he rolled his eyes. “You haven’t been waiting out here long, have you? I know they wouldn’t have let you interrupt the class.”

“Just ten minutes or so, it was fine. Mr Lance kept me company.” She cast her gaze down the corridor where the manager’s office was located. “You just missed him.”

“Lance talked to you?” Oliver asked, shocked. Usually the man didn’t interact with any of the gym clients unless they had any grievances. “What about?”

“You, actually!”

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack? What did he say? What did you say?”

“All good things,” she reassured him, patting his bare arm in consolation. “Wow. You are… _really_ sweaty.”

“That’s what happens when you work as a personal trainer in a gym, Felicity. You get down and dirty.” He wrinkled his nose. “Oh god, that was such an awful way of phrasing it.”

But Felicity was bent over with peals of laughter escaping her throat. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you said that!”

“I’m flustered!” he gave as an excuse. “You just told me you had a discussion with my manager about me!”

“He wanted to know how we met.”

“Did you tell him?”

“Well, yeah. Our meeting story isn’t _bad_ , Oliver. People don’t go running for the hills the minute they hear that we met because we both have the same therapist.” Ziggy barked, batting gently at Felicity’s leg. “And that’s Zig reminding me that the driver is waiting outside on the street for us. Sorry, I have a meeting with Holt at six and have to prep…”

Catching her wrist, Oliver pulled her into a hug. He chuckled when Felicity squirmed and he heard her mutter something about him being sweaty again. “Friday?”

“Friday,” she confirmed. “And actually Friday this time - not us saying Friday and then one of us forgetting our coats so we end up meeting up again a couple hours later.”

“Yes. Friday.”

“Friday.” Felicity paused in the doorway, propping the door open with her foot. “We’re probably going to run into each other tomorrow now, aren’t we?”

“Maybe. I’m not complaining,” Oliver shrugged, rubbing his service dog’s ears.

“Yeah, me neither.”

* * *

_To Oliver Queen,_  
_From: Felicity Smoak <3_ \- Hi.

 _From Oliver Queen,_  
_To: Felicity Smoak <3_ \- Hi! Everything okay?

 _To Oliver Queen,_  
_From Felicity Smoak <3_ \- Can you come over?

Oliver frowned down at his cell phone, swiveling so his legs dropped off the couch from where he’d been splayed out over him, Leo curled up on top of him. The service dog huffed unhappily but clambered to the other side of the couch to escape his swinging feet. He checked the time. Five in the afternoon. It was Friday. Felicity should be at work. Why was she at home?

 _From Oliver Queen,_  
_To: Felicity Smoak <3 -_ Felicity, what’s going on? Are you alright?

 _To Oliver Queen,_  
_From Felicity Smoak <3_ \- No.

Even more concerned than before, Oliver tried to call her. It immediately went to voicemail, indicating that she’d declined the call as soon as it arrived.

 _From Oliver Queen,_  
_To: Felicity Smoak <3_ \- Not picking up???

 _To Oliver Queen,_  
_From Felicity Smoak <3_ \- Please just come over.

Raising his voice, Oliver shouted, “Will?”, aware the teenager might have his headphones in.

His son popped his head around his bedroom door. Samantha had dropped him off around two hours ago and William had holed himself up in his bedroom to finish his homework for the weekend in peace as quickly as possible. “Yep?”

“Can you grab your coat, please?”

The twelve-year-old nodded, closing his door behind him and crossing the room to grab his sneakers from near the front door. “We going out?”

“Yeah, over to Felicity’s,” he answered.

“Is she okay?”

“I don’t know.” And that seriously bothered Oliver. He glanced down at his phone again, typing.

 _From Oliver Queen,_  
_To: Felicity Smoak <3_ \- Is something wrong?

 _To Oliver Queen,_  
_From Felicity Smoak <3_ \- The date.

“Why would the date be wrong?” he muttered under his breath. He checked his watch. March 2nd. Nothing sprang to mind. “Will, have any idea why March 2nd would be significant for Felicity?”

William looked puzzled. “It’s not her birthday, is it?”

“No, that’s in February.” He knew that for sure because they’d celebrated it together; Oliver had surprised her at the office with the help of her personal assistant by bringing in a giant unicorn cake, and then they’d gone out for dinner afterward.

“Maybe it’s an anniversary of something?” his son suggested.

An intense sense of dread swept over him. Pulling up the internet on his phone, Oliver typed ‘Felicity Smoak March 2nd’ into Google. The results that popped up onto the screen almost made his knees give out beneath him, his mouth falling open and heart rising into his throat. “Oh shit.”

“Dad?” William asked urgently, alarmed by his swearing.

“Get ready. Quickly.” He began running around the room, yanking on his shoes and his jacket as fast as he possibly could. “Leo, vest and leash!” The service dog leaped off the couch and raced off to fetch the items his master had requested. “Grab my weighted blanket from my room, would you, buddy?”

The twelve-year-old ran in and out of Oliver’s bedroom, returning with the blanket wrapped up in his arms. His eyes were wide and scared. “Dad, what’s going on?”

“March 2nd,” Oliver murmured to himself, shaking his head at his own stupidity. How could he not have known? How could he not remember? “Felicity was shot and paralyzed five years today. They - they’re holding a memorial ceremony and fundraising gala at Smoak Tech tonight to raise money for a charity supporting victims of gun violence. As the CEO, Felicity must have to give a speech. God, I’m such an _idiot_. Such an awful friend.”

“Come on, let’s go!” William urged him, holding out Oliver’s car keys with one hand while he clipped on Leo’s leash with his other, fixing the service vest so it fit the dog better.

They sprinted down the stairs to the garage. Oliver managed to send a text telling Felicity they were coming before he put the car into gear and began driving to her apartment building. Most likely he broke a couple of speeding laws on their way there, but he didn’t care. He pulled up on the street in a parking space, making sure his friends and family permit giving him permission to park there for free was visible, and then he, William and Leo hurried up the stairs, taking them three at a time until they reached Felicity’s apartment floor.

Motioning for William to be quiet, Oliver knocked on the door quietly, calling out, “Felicity? It’s Oliver. William and Leo are with me.”

A couple of seconds later, they heard scrambling against the door. It sounded a lot like claws scratching against the wood, and once the door swung open, Oliver realized why. Ziggy appeared in the doorway, looking extremely upset with his tail tucked between his legs and head lowered. The service dog had been the one to open the door, not Felicity. He whined, butting his head against William’s knees. Leo immediately tried to soothe the other dog with his own rumble, and William knelt down to scratch behind the golden retriever’s ears. Oliver, meanwhile, sidestepped around his son and the two dogs, hurrying into the apartment.

He didn’t take any notice of the decor or surroundings, completely focused on finding Felicity, who at first wasn’t visible to him. As he slowly strode through the apartment, however, Oliver sighed in relief when he spotted Felicity curled up in the corner, squeezed into the tiny space between the wall and her couch.

“Today _sucks_ ,” was the first thing she said to him. “Really, totally, truly _sucks._ ”

“Yeah, it does,” Oliver agreed, scrutinizing her carefully. Felicity had definitely been crying and judging by how restless and fidgety she was, had already experienced an anxiety attack. She seemed reasonably calm now, though - scarily calm. Almost as if she had dissociated, locking away all of her emotions so she would feel nothing instead of everything all at once. “Can I shift the couch and sit next to you?”

“Feel free,” she shrugged.

He shoved the piece of furniture sideways, making sure it wouldn’t displace anything else as he moved it. Rolling his eyes when both Leo and Ziggy bounded up and jumped up onto it, Oliver stroked both of them so they would settle down before turning back to Felicity, who he needed to focus his attention on now.

“You brought Will with you,” Felicity observed, her voice small.

“So I could make you hot cocoa,” William told her, making it up on the spot. He obviously didn’t want to admit he’d been freaking out about her as much as Oliver had. “Dad makes horrible cocoa, I didn’t want you to be subjected to that.”

“My hero,” she managed to smile. “You know where everything is?”

“As long as you haven’t moved everything since the last four times I was here, then yes, I do,” the twelve-year-old replied, attempting a teasing tone despite his concern about her.

William walked away into the kitchen, leaving Oliver alone with Felicity (with their service dogs keeping an eye on them both). Kneeling down and then shuffling to sit beside her, he linked his arm with hers and urged her to lean on him. He pulled the weighted blanket that Leo had dragged in and dropped in front of the couch over them both and brushed her loose hair out of her face. Exhaling tiredly, Felicity propped her chin on his shoulder, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” she said. “You didn’t have to.”

“You asked me to,” Oliver answered. “If it’s you asking, I’ll do it.”

“You literally got over here within ten minutes of me first texting you. I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend who was willing to do that.”

“Well, now you have. How are you?”

“I’m much better now than I was earlier. I didn’t even realize what today was until I turned on the TV and it was… everywhere. On every news channel. And then I checked my cell phone and I had over sixty messages and twenty missed calls from various people, including my CFO, CTO, Mom, Diggle and Lyla. Everything was just… too much, ya know?”

“Did you have an anxiety attack?” he questioned softly, tightening his grip on her hand supportively.

“Yeah. It was short though. Much shorter than usual. I did the five senses thing, and that paired with Ziggy helping me meant it only lasted for like, fifteen minutes. Sometimes they last for over an hour so I was kind of happy about that.”

He smiled. “Hey, that’s _amazing_. You did great, Felicity. That’s such incredible progress.”

She shot him a look. “You sound like Diggle.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he winked.

“Before you ask, I’ve already called into the office and excused myself from tonight’s gala. They were pretty understanding. And I’ve arranged a two-hour appointment on Wednesday with Diggle to talk this over with. I’m being responsible.”

“That’s good,” Oliver offered.

“Yeah.” She nuzzled into his shoulder. The warm, fuzzy emotion that erupted, spreading from his chest into his stomach, almost made Oliver shiver, but he fought it back. He inched his arm around her waist, pulling her in closer to his torso so he could embrace her. Felicity pretty much climbed into his lap, hugging him back. Swallowing, he stared at her face to try and ignore the other heated feeling in another specific part of his body. “Thank you for coming. Seriously.”

“I was always going to come, Felicity. I lo -” The words got caught in his throat. What had he been about to say? That had been such a random, unexpected thought exploding at the front of his brain. He had no clue where it had come from. (Or if he did, he didn’t want to think about it too much.)

William yelling, “Felicity, where do you keep your marshmallows?” startled both of them and triggered both the service dogs to yelp in surprise, heads shooting up.

“I’m coming,” she shouted back. Sliding off Oliver’s lap and using the wall to help herself stand up, Felicity informed him, “Can’t have cocoa without marshmallows. William knows his stuff.”

He held her elbow to make sure she remained balanced until she was more steady on her feet. “He learns most of it from you,” Oliver told her.

“Nah, I think he gets it from his dad.”

“Pretty sure he didn’t get the idea of macaroni cheese on pizza from me, Felicity.”

“Macaroni pizza is one the greatest things to grace this planet, don’t you dare hate on it.”

* * *

“Can I see your list for yesterday?” Diggle requested, flicking through his notes.

Oliver shifted to pull his cell phone out of his pocket, opening up the notes app. He scooted forwards to hand it over to the doctor before settling back into his seat. He checked his watch quickly. Felicity and William were waiting in reception with Ziggy for him. There had been a fire at William’s school at the weekend so it was closed for the week, and Samantha had allowed Will to spend half the week with Oliver. He, Will and Felicity were planning on going down to the beach on the same trip they’d been forced to abort two months ago after Oliver had a panic attack. Flushing red when he caught Diggle watching him with a raised eyebrow, he crossed his arms and fixed his eyes on Leo. The German shepherd was basking in the sunlight streaming from the windows on the floor with the doctor’s cockapoo service dog, Luna, next to him.

“You looking to get out of here early?” Diggle asked.

“Sorry,” Oliver muttered.

“I noticed Felicity and William outside.”

“Yeah, we’re going to the beach together later.”

The doctor read Oliver’s list. Oliver tried to remember what exactly he’d written, and internally cringed.

_1\. Felicity, William and I had brunch together_  
_2\. Felicity laughed at my dad joke_  
_3\. Felicity invited us around for a movie night on Saturday_  
_4\. I won the Oreo eating competition between Felicity, Will and I_  
_5\. We made arrangements to have breakfast again tomorrow before therapy_

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Diggle scratched his head, noting, “You and Felicity are spending a lot of time together.”

He shrugged. “We’re best friends.”

“Mhmm.”

“What?” Oliver questioned, not liking the expression on Diggle’s face. “ _What?_ ”

Sighing, the doctor passed back his cell phone. “Oliver, do you know how many times you’ve mentioned Felicity on these lists of yours since you’ve started taking these seriously?”

“A couple of times, I guess.”

“One hundred and thirty-seven times.”

Oliver blinked in shock. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.”

Diggle quirked an eyebrow. “You didn’t realize that you’ve listed Felicity as a reason for you being happy over a hundred times? Sometimes you list her more than once a day. Sometimes she’s all you list. You know what I call that, Oliver?”

He already knew what the doctor was going to say. “A crush?” he asked, cheeks red.

Shaking his head, Diggle said, “No. A crush implies a brief but intense infatuation for someone. This is intense, sure, but it’s in no way brief.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I don’t know. You tell me what you think I’m trying to say.”

“I thought I was here to have you sort out my mental health, not try and give me love life advice.”

“Ah.” Diggle leaned back in his chair, smiling. “So you have already realized, but you’re repressing it.”

“Repressing what?”

Diggle shot him a look. “I’m not saying it, Oliver. You have to.”

He exhaled slowly, running his hands through his hair. “I’m in love with Felicity Smoak,” he finally admitted. It was the first time he’d ever confessed that out loud. And it felt _amazing_. To put it out into the open after so long denying it was incredible. “But I don’t know how to tell her.”

“Be honest,” Diggle suggested. “Just say it.”

“What if she doesn’t love me back? What if she rejects me?”

“She won’t.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I do, actually.”

Oliver furrowed his brow in confusion. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I’m not allowed to share information about my other patients,” Diggle informed him.

“I’m not asking you to?”

“Oliver.” The doctor gazed at him pointedly. “You asked me how I know Felicity won’t reject you if you tell her you love her. I am telling you I’m not allowed to share information about my other patients with you. Connect the dots.”

Realisation dawned. Felicity had spoken to Diggle about him before. Told Diggle that… she wouldn’t reject Oliver if he asked her out on a date? Is that what the doctor was implying? But that had to mean that…

Was it possible that Felicity loved him back?

And they were both just too scared to talk to each other because of their crippling fears of rejection?

“That’s time today, Oliver,” Diggle said softly, standing. “I think you need some space to process things. I’m a single phone call away if you need to talk, remember?”

Nodding, Oliver motioned for Leo to follow him as he made his way out of the office. He heard the doctor call his name from behind him but ignored him. Oliver definitely needed time to get over what he’d just learned. He’d been living for months thinking that he loved Felicity but she didn’t love him back, only to find out he might be wrong. He’d suffered countless sleepless nights thinking that she would never reciprocate his feelings, only to find out that she actually might.

Felicity stood up as soon as he exited the office, and her expression immediately morphed into one of concern. She started over to him, and he found himself shrinking backward. “Oliver?”

“Give him his space, Felicity,” Diggle advised quietly.

“Dad?” William asked. “Is everything okay?”

“I need to go home,” Oliver whispered.

“Okay,” Felicity said softly, reaching out to grasp his hand. “Okay, I’ll walk you and William -” Oliver wrenched his hand out of her grip, flinching away from her. He just couldn’t be with her right now. He couldn’t look at her. Flinching again when he saw the stunned, hurt look on her face when he risked a glance, he clenched his hands into fists. “Oliver?”

He shook his head, taking a step away from her.

“Dad, what’s going on?” William questioned, voice shaking.

“William, go with Lyla,” Diggle commanded him. “She’s going to take you get donuts, okay?”

“But Dad -”

“Will be fine,” the doctor told him. “I promise you, he will be fine. I think he and Felicity need to have a private talk.”

Oliver shook his head. “No.”

“Yes,” Diggle said firmly. “I am _not_ letting you leave my office like this, Oliver.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw William leave with Lyla, his son looking very worried and upset and the receptionist slipping an arm around his shoulders. Leo remained poised in front of Oliver, watching him carefully. The service dog knew and understood what mindset he was in and wasn’t trying to touch him. Encouraged by Diggle to sit down, Felicity backed up and took a seat on one of the waiting room chairs, observing him with wide, anxious eyes with her own service dog whimpering next to her.

Oliver took another step back.

His fight and flight instincts were kicking in, the adrenaline making him feel sick, and right now he wanted to _run_. Get away. Right now, he couldn’t deal with this. Time and personal space were what he needed to get his head around this and come to terms with the fact that it might not be all that hopeless to have feelings for Felicity, and Diggle forcing him to talk to her was not going to help matters; it would make things worse.

The doctor must have recognized the expression on his face, because he held his hands out placatingly and said slowly, “Oliver, don’t run. _Don’t_ run.”

“I need to -”

“No, you don’t. It’s alright. I won’t make you stay here and talk to Felicity. I will _not_ force you to. You can go. Just please don’t run. That will not leave your relationship with her on good terms, you know that. And if you run while in this state, you could get yourself hurt, and then imagine how William will feel?”

“Don’t use my son against me,” Oliver spat out.

“Okay,” Diggle raised his arms in surrender. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that. Go into the recovery room, take a breather.” He whistled, and Luna came scampering out of his office. Turning back to Oliver, the doctor told him, “Leo and Luna will go with you. Take all the time you need.” Glancing over at Felicity, he informed her gently, “You should go. I’ll call you later.”

She appeared troubled, twisting her fingers together. “But…”

“Felicity,” Oliver managed to say, his voice raspy and quiet and so _small_ that he hated himself. Her gaze flashed over to him, full of hope. He crushed it as he completed, “Please go.”

The image of her kicked puppy face would haunt him for the rest of the day. Scooping up Ziggy’s leash, Felicity muttered a quick goodbye to each of them and then made her exit. As she walked away, Oliver felt like she was dragging his heart along with her. He only noticed the tears rolling down his cheeks when Diggle handed him a tissue and carefully guided him towards the recovery room. Sliding down the back wall onto the floor cushions, Oliver buried his hands in Leo’s fur and dropped his head down onto his shoulder as the service dog stood protectively over him. He dropped one of his hands down to pet the cockapoo when Luna snuggled into his lap, nuzzling at his stomach.

The doctor knelt down a few feet away, asking clearly, “What do you need?”

“To be alone,” he mumbled.

“Are you sure? I can emergency cancel my next appointment. We can try and work through this.”

He shook his head. “I want to be alone.”

And so Diggle left him alone.

* * *

Oliver slipped into a pretty severe depressive episode for about two weeks. He didn’t know why. After taking a few days to process that there was a high possibility that Felicity loved him back, Oliver had felt relieved. Happy. He finally thought he might be able to scrounge up the courage to admit his feelings for her. But when he woke up on Friday morning, planning on heading down to the park to walk their service dogs together as they always did, Oliver couldn’t get out of bed. He didn’t have the motivation to. Instead, he just cried.

Thank god William wasn’t visiting that weekend, because Oliver couldn’t even eat, drink or look after himself; he definitely wouldn’t have been able to care for his twelve-year-old son. He felt ashamed of how weak he was. He couldn’t even bring himself to roll out of bed and change his clothes. No matter whether he loved Felicity or not, he would never be worthy of her, and he didn’t deserve her.

Diggle came around on Monday morning after the other trainer, Tommy, at Oliver’s work apparently called him to say he hadn’t arrived yet and he was worried about him. The doctor never usually made house calls for his patients, which only made Oliver feel worse. Diggle took one look at the state of him and told him he was going to be staying with him and Lyla for the rest of the week. When Oliver asked why, the doctor replied bluntly that it was because he couldn’t trust Oliver not to kill himself.

Lyla and Diggle had a spacious three bedroom house on the outskirts of the city. They gave Oliver his own guest room and gave him space, but said they would only let him have time alone if he promised not to hurt himself, showered every day and came down for every meal. In the light of things, they weren’t asking him for much. They drove him to work each morning after early breakfast and a run around the local park with their dogs. They sat him down each evening and put a plate of food in front of him, and requested he write his homework lists. On Wednesday, Diggle allowed their therapy session to be held in his living room so Oliver didn’t have to go with him to the office. They were so kind and considerate to help him and Leo that he had no idea how he would ever be able to repay them.

On Thursday evening, however, the world dropped from underneath Oliver’s feet.

He was helping Lyla finish a one thousand piece puzzle on the living room floor after dinner when Diggle strode in, a solemn expression on his face.

“Get up, get your coat,” the doctor told him.

Oliver stood and hurried to obey his commands, Leo jumping off the couch to bound at his heels, whining worriedly. “What’s happened?”

“I just got a call from the hospital. Felicity was in a car accident. It’s not good.”

For the entire twenty minute journey to the hospital, Oliver trembled and gasped and cried. He had absolutely no idea what state Felicity was going to be in when they arrived, but judging by how Diggle had phrased it, ‘not good’, he was tearing apart at the seams. How close had she come to death during the accident? How close had he come to losing her? Being her medical proxy, Diggle was able to get him and Oliver through all the check-ins and into the ward where Felicity was without many hiccups.

The first thing Oliver saw as they turned into the corridor leading to the ward was Ziggy, whining as he batted the closed door separating him from his owner desperately. The golden retriever whipped around upon hearing their approach and ran up to Oliver, whimpering and rubbing his head against his thighs.

“Hey, hey,” he shushed the service dog, stroking him to calm him down. “It’s okay, Ziggy, it’s okay.” Glancing up at Diggle, Oliver asked confusedly, “Shouldn’t he be allowed in Felicity’s room?”

“I’ll go and speak with the Head Nurse,” the doctor replied. “Wait outside here, okay? She might not be allowed more than one visitor at once.”

He barely had to wait five minutes, fortunately. Ziggy was allowed into Felicity’s room with her since he was a service dog, but he’d become alarmed and started growling at the nurses as they hooked Felicity up to IVs and drips so they’d been forced to shut him out. The nurse began to explain to them what had happened; a drunk driver had crashed into the driver’s side of Felicity’s car, meaning she took all of the impact, while Ziggy, who had been on the passenger side, had somehow managed to escape injury-free.

It was a miracle that Felicity was still alive; her list of injuries caused Oliver’s stomach to clench, a nauseous wave passing over him. The worst part of it all was that Felicity’s miracle chip that had cured her paralysis had been knocked out of place, and had stopped working. The nurse quietly informed them how Felicity had freaked out and panicked when she’d first come out from under anesthetic after surgery on her broken arm to find she couldn’t feel her legs. Oliver wanted to punch the wall, but Diggle caught his arm, shooting him a pointed look before asking if they could see her. The nurse was reluctant but signed off on both of them going in to visit.

Although she appeared to be asleep when they first entered the room, Felicity’s eyes fluttered open and she peered at them with a groggy, half-lidded gaze as Oliver silently shut the door behind them. Ziggy rushed up to the side of the bed and leaped up into the chair beside it, settling his head down on top of her stomach with a low, sad whine. Hanging back nervously as Diggle went forwards to greet and check over her, Oliver stared blankly at the floor. Maybe it was wrong of him to be here. He’d been avoiding Felicity for over a week now - he wouldn’t be surprised or offended if she didn’t want anything to do with him.

But then he heard her voice, slightly slurred and hoarse, call out, “Oliver…” quietly. His head snapped up. “Come here, please.”

He couldn’t deny her this. Shuffling forwards until he was standing at her bedside, Oliver finally let himself run his gaze over her, holding back a sob at what he saw. Felicity looked like she’d been through Hell and back. There wasn’t an inch of her skin that was free from bruises or welts, her blonde hair matted with dried blood from a head wound they hadn’t been able to clean out yet and her right arm in a cast and sling. The number of tubes attached to her body was simply alarming. But despite the obvious pain she was in, Felicity smiled and reached out with a trembling hand. Oliver entwined their fingers cautiously, taking a seat in the chair that Diggle drew up for him.

Pressing a tender kiss to her knuckled, he whispered huskily, “Hey,”

“Hi. You came. Thank you.”

“Of course I came.” He tucked a lock of blonde hair that was falling onto her face behind her ear. “I’m sorry if I made you think I wouldn’t. I know I’ve been awful over the last week. I’m so sorry. That was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have shut myself off. Maybe if I hadn’t, you wouldn’t be in this position right now.”

“It’s okay,” she reassured him, stroking her fingers over his palm. “I understand why you did what you did. And there is no way this is your fault, Oliver.” She tried to shift and grimaced when she could move her upper body to sit up slightly more, but her legs didn’t cooperate. “Damn, I forgot how much paralysis sucks.”

“You can make another chip, though, right?” Diggle questioned, folding up the blankets at the end of her bed.

“Yeah, but it’s going to take a couple of months to get it fabricated,” she sighed. “I’ll have to get my old wheelchair out of storage.”

“I can carry you,” Oliver quickly offered. “Wherever you want, whenever you want.”

“That’s sweet of you, Oliver, but pretty sure the Smoak Tech board would not find it very professional for the CEO of the company to be carried around bridal-style by her best friend to different meetings.” Running her uninjured hand through her hair, Felicity shrugged. “Got off lucky though, I guess. I could have actually lost my legs, not just had them paralyzed again.” She chuckled at her own dark humor.

But Oliver wasn’t amused. “Don’t joke about that. You could have died,” he said, his voice cracking. “You could have _died_ , and I would never have been able to tell you -” he cut himself off with a shudder, trying to will back the tears in his eyes.

“I’m going to go and speak with the nurse again,” Diggle told them. “Give you two some space. Do you need anything, Felicity?”

“Some ice chips for my throat would be great,” she gave him a wobbly grin.

The doctor nodded and bent down to kiss her forehead, squeezing Oliver’s shoulder before he disappeared out of the room. Turning back to Felicity, Oliver blushed when he realized that she was watching him, a fond look on her face. Leo and Ziggy exchanged glances and left to go and curl up next to the windows together, both service dogs exhausted.

“Never would have been able to tell me what?” she questioned softly. “Please be honest with me, Oliver. And I’ll be honest with you in return.”

Well, it was now or never.

“I love you,” he choked out. “I love you _so much_. And not just… as a friend. I’m _in_ love with you. I love you, Felicity Smoak. You give me the strength to carry on surviving each day in this cruel, unforgiving world, you are the one constant I can rely on and trust. You make me unequivocally happy. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

There was a beat of silence, but then Felicity smiled brilliantly. “I love you too,” Felicity murmured, cupping his face. His eyes closed in bliss as her thumb gently caressed his cheek. “I love you so much. You don’t just give me strength, you _are_ my strength. I can’t imagine what my life would look like anymore without you in it, Oliver. I don’t think I’d survive without you in it.”

“Sure that’s not just the painkillers talking?” he chuckled weakly, tapping the morphine line.

“They dialed down the painkillers once they realized I couldn’t feel my legs so definitely not the morphine. I’ve known that I’m in love with you since our third meet up at the park,” she admitted. “I was just too scared to tell you.”

“Me too,” he laughed, wiping away his tears. “Guess we’re both wimps when it comes to confessing our love, huh.”

Flicking his hand, Felicity responded, “Nah. We’re both just extremely emotionally repressed, traumatized individuals that struggle to get our feelings across.”

He chuckled. “I love you.”

“Do you?” Felicity quirked an eyebrow cheekily, lifting her chin. “Prove it. Kiss me.”

“While we’re in hospital?”

“What, don’t think your kissing abilities are good enough to make up for the fact we’re in a less than ideal location?” she teased.

Laughing quietly, he continued, “And there’s the fact that you’re hurt and I don’t want to cause you any more pain.”

“I think you’re insecure about how good you are at kissing and are making excuses.”

“I’m not insecure. I am a very good kisser, Felicity.”

“Then _prove it_ ,” she dared. “Prove that you love me and that you’re an amazing kisser, both at the same time.”

“Challenge accepted.” Oliver leaned forwards.

Gently tilting her chin up with one finger, he pressed his lips to hers in a tender, loving kiss. Felicity’s body arched up off the hospital bed beneath his as she pushed up into his mouth; she released a moan as she wrapped her uninjured arm around his neck, flicking her tongue against his lips to gain entrance. She was only able to deepen it for a second before they were forced to break away for oxygen. As they breathed heavily, their faces only inches away from each other, Oliver fixed his gaze onto her glittering blue eyes and swollen lips, smiling as he saw the red blush of her cheeks and her dilated pupils. Although her dilated pupils could have been caused by the painkillers, he liked to think it was due to him.

“Point proven?” he whispered.

She nodded, swallowing. “Definitely. Although we’re going to have to do that very often for you to remind me of how much you love me _and_ what an incredible kisser you are.”

“I would do it again if I wasn’t eighty percent certain there are nurses watching us through the window of your door right now - no, don’t look.” He covered her eyes, grinning when she pouted.

“Oliver,” she complained, trying to pull down his hand. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

Exhaling, Oliver admitted, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

“It’s kind of sad how much time it took for us both to realize how utterly head over heels in love we are with each other,” Felicity said. “Have we technically been dating without even knowing it? If we consider all of our park and coffee shop meetups dates?”

“We must have gone on over one hundred dates,” Oliver nodded. “Even Will spotted there was something between us when he first met you.”

“Oh right, yeah, he called me your girlfriend. I suppose I technically am your girlfriend now. Do you think he’ll be okay with…” she waved between them, “This?”

“‘Okay’? I think he’ll be ecstatic.”

“He did tell me last week that we’ve been acting like we’re married for as long as he’s known me,” Felicity mused. “Hopefully it won’t take as long for us to get from girlfriend/boyfriend to engaged as it did for us to get from strangers to girlfriend/boyfriend.” Her eyes widened. “Not - not that I was implying we will get married.”

He caught her flailing hand between his own, reminding her, “I said the rest of my life, Felicity. Look, I know this is vastly inappropriate and way too early considering we’re only just telling each other how we feel but…”

“But?” she prompted.

Oliver inhaled and stood, kicking the chair back. No backing out now. He slowly lowered himself to one knee, holding her hand tightly as he asked, “Felicity Smoak, will you make me the happiest man alive… and marry me?”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Please leave kudos and comment :)
> 
> Tumblr: @alexiablackbriar13  
> Twitter: @lexiblackbriar


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